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hanggarae · 1 year

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MON ANGE !

“what does that even mean?” you giggled at jeonghan from his side.

ever since he had come back from paris he wouldn’t stop saying it, wouldn’t stop saying ‘mon ange’ to you.

you could only assume it meant something good, a term of endearment judging by his tone, but then again your boyfriend could just be fooling you, which honestly wouldn’t come as much of a surprise.

“if you wanna know so bad then you should learn french like me” he told you with a smug look.

“you know how to say a grand total of two words. i’d bet i already know more words than you do”

“well then in that case you should be able to work out what it means shouldn’t you, mon ange?” he grinned with closed eyes.

you rolled your eyes at him before picking up your phone and opening the translate site.

“what are you doing?” jeonghan looked at you confused, “what do you need this for?”

“well since you aren’t telling me i may as well just search it”

to your surprise, he didn’t make an effort to stop you, instead wanting you to find the meaning despite being adamant on not letting you know a minute ago.

after typing the word and the site detected and translated the language, you looked at jeonghan slowly, a lovesick grin glued on your face.

“you’re so cute” you told him with a ghost of a pout on your lips that jeonghan kissed while giggling at your reaction.

“so are you, my angel”

#user itadorins posting after almost three months yahhhh !!!#my eight french lessons in year six sponsored this fic #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff

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pellaaearien · 7 months

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Hunger as a Metaphor for Love, Dream of the Endless Needs a Hug, Hob Gadling wants to give him one, Non-sexual Intimacy, Inappropriate Use of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs), Episode Codas, Dream of the Endless Frees Nada, Surrealism, Matthew Swears a Lot, Dream POV, Slow Burn, Not Actually Unrequited Love (They’re Just Idiots), or: it’s okay to have dreams about your platonic best friend so long as he never finds out about them

Don't let me in with with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

[Read on AO3]

Thanks to @moorishflower for beta-ing the first draft of this chapter, and to @mandolinearts for the gorgeous banner!

#just squeaking in on the one year posting anniversary #eight chapters longer than anticipated #the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #dreamling fic

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deancaspinefest · 1 year

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Congratulations to all of the wonderful authors and artists who took part in the seventh annual Dean/Cas Pinefest!

This pining season, 39 teams comprised of 41 authors and 25 artists brought us a truly incredible 1,470,624 words of fic, and 141 gorgeous works of art.

If you're interested in seeing more numbers, you can find a full breakdown of this and past year's stats here!

Once again, we've been blown away by the sheer talent and creativity of this fandom, and we're so happy that people are still interested in this event two years after Supernatural wrapped up (for now!)

In case you're wondering: yes, the mods are still fully aboard this ship, and will be back to run an eighth round!

An official announcement for the 2024 Pinefest will come in July, so follow us here on Tumblr & @deancaspinefest on Twitter to make sure you don’t miss out 🌲

Under the cut, you’ll find links to every masterpost from the 2023 round, and you can also check out the collection on Ao3. Make sure to let the authors and artists know how much you enjoyed their creations with a like, kudos, or best of all, a reblog, rec, or comment!

Everywhere

The Devil You Know (Who Also Knows You)

Other Worlds Than These

The barista and the bookshop

Hunter’s Throne

Marigold

won’t you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart?

Depth of Field

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409

You Could Save Me (from the way I tend to be)

straw house, straw dog

Life After Loss

Don’t forget me when I’m gone

On Wayward Tracks

The Fool, Fish and Rocks

Something in the Air

stay in my arms (if you dare)

Everything’s Fine

Djinn & Tonic

Buzz

My Turning Page

Breaking Bonds

The Emoji Guy

When I Knew You

Faith and Magic

Fall A Little Further

The Waiting (is the hardest part)

Lucky Mud

Lavender Pines

Devil on the Dirt

Maybe Next Time

r/Relationships

West

the long hill home

when the stars align

My Body is a Cage

Whisper My Name

Unbeknownst Soul Mate

carving deep blue ripples

And once you're all caught up on this year’s crop of pine, there are 553 works of art and 180 fics (totaling almost 7 million words) to be found in the previous six Pinefest rounds!

Until next time... happy pining!

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel art #deancas fic #deancas art #pinefest 2023 #2023 masterpost #deancas pinefest #masterpost #big thank you to everyone who took part!#we love running this challenge and that's thanks to all of you <3 #we'll be sharing all of this year's masterposts again in the coming days #please share and comment so that all of our authors and artists know you like their work!#we'll see you all soon for round eight!!

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enagismos · 1 year

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yeah i heard about p!atd breaking up. sad! i guess you could say brendon’s career went crash! bang! and smoke...

#I'M SORRY I'LL STOP #i suddenly remembered the quote even though i haven't read the fic in eight years #the heart rate of the mouse #throam #panic! at the disco

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zannolin · 3 months

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Fic Summary: The first job after Lucy’s abrupt departure, Lockwood calls Holly Luce twice without thinking and bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. Holly’s unfailingly polite about it, because Holly’s unfailingly polite about everything, but he can’t miss the way she flinches, or the way George refuses to look at either of them. He can taste his embarrassment on the backs of his teeth, bitter and coppery where it mingles with the blood from his tongue.

It's just an adjustment period, he tells himself. Sure, there’s an empty space at his right shoulder all night where he keeps looking for Lucy entirely on instinct, one he hasn’t the first idea how to go about correcting, or even if he wants to—but it’s the first night. It’s to be expected. He thinks: It’ll get better.

But really, it just gets worse.

(or, the black winter fic in which lucy's absence haunts lockwood and the narrative both.)

#lockwood & co #locklyle #lockwood and co #zanna writes #the black winter fic ive been meaning to write for like eight years who cheered!!

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groenendaelfic · 10 months

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I've written 90k of ABO fic in which Wilhelm has a knot, animalistic instincts, endless stamina and people cower and kneel at his mere presence, and yet people feel the need to keep telling me my silly, mistaken identity ROM-COM in which Simon doesn't google stalk his boyfriend is not the most realistic thing they've ever read.

It's a rom-com! Silly, fun escapism with a suspension of disbelief is the entire purpose of the genre!

Is this a generational thing? Have people forgotten they can enjoy ridiculous things without publicly acknowledging and making it known that they're aware it's not as realistic as it could be?

It's okay. No one will think less of you if you enjoy (or don't enjoy) The Prince and the Barista without telling me that it's not 100% realistic. I'm aware.

wilmon staying together for the rest of their lives isn't 100% realistic either, and I still want that, come get me

#it's a fanfic #if I wanted sad realistic shit I'd turn to irl #also I've never google stalked anyone #admittedly the last time I dated someone new was eight years ago #but still #but seriously I've lost all of my immediate family a few months ago #I know I've been subtle about it but there's a reason I changed the ending of chapter three #I'm not looking for any pity but #I'm not going to write anyone's funeral focusing on the sadness and depression #young royals #random ramblings #young royals fic #wilmon #the prince and the barista

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transingthoseformers · 20 days

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"what have I gotten myself into" <- started a 260k fic

#fic reading as ya do #it's been in progress for eight years ao3 is to be believed

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baronessblixen · 5 months

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Look For The Light

My prompts: Eight Nights of Mulder, day 8 (last day!) - lights X-Mas Files Challenge - Scully loves presents

Summary: It's William's first night at home and Mulder reflects how lucky he is. (fluffy fluff; wc: 851)

Tagging @today-in-fic @eightnightsofmulder

There is so much he wants to say. So much he thinks he should explain. There’s so much, and yet, he can’t stop staring at this tiny human being in his arms, a miracle from head to his ten toes. William is sleeping, his breathing going fast as if trying to catch up with the world now that he’s seeing it from the outside.

“How do you like it out here, hm?” Mulder asks, gently swaying. Time has lost all meaning to him. It might be late at night, or early morning. It doesn’t matter. In the bedroom, Scully is asleep, needing every second of shuteye she can get. He’s here for all these moments. That’s something that a few months ago seemed impossible.

“There’s nothing that’s impossible when it comes to us Mulders, right? Well, you’re half a Mulder and half a Scully. Makes you twice as awesome.” Mulder has been amazed by Scully ever since he’s known her, but now, she’s a certified hero in his eyes.

“Your mom is the most amazing person in the world. You probably know that already.” The child’s eyes remain closed, and his body slack. “Already not listening. Yeah, you’re my son.” He chuckles softly, just watching. This tiny nose that Mulder hopes will take on Scully’s shape as it grows. The tuft of reddish hair on his small head that’s softer than anything Mulder has ever touched. He has never felt so whole, or so much at home with himself, and in the world. He didn’t think he’d get here. Decades of running after the truth, of following every light in the sky, and this time, the light led him here. To William, and to Scully.

He tried explaining it to Scully earlier, with their son between them. The light. How all he did was follow it. But she was just smiling, probably not listening at all, and then, a moment later, she was asleep, looking so much like William. Mulder picked him up, hoping he’d, too, sleep a while. So far, he’s in luck. That same luck that has been following him ever since he set out to find Scully.

The light that led him. He looks at William and he feels it. It’s there. It’s a warmth, a bond. Love. If Scully were awake, if he said this to her, he knows she would roll her eyes at him. He’ll stick to his story. There was a light and he followed it. That, to him, is William. He has brought light into his and Scully’s life, leading them onward from now on. His son chooses that moment to open his eyes. They’re still unfocused, lost in this big, big world, but Mulder can’t help but smile.

“Knew I was thinking about you, hm? You’re clever like that. We should wake your mom.” He will never tire of this. Scully is a mom and he’s a dad. The product of their love is in his arms, just waking up, just getting to know the world around him.

“You know what? We should think of a gift for your mom. I’m gonna tell you a secret, Will.” The baby shuffles in his arms, his eyes closing again. “Your mom loves presents. Oh, she pretends she doesn’t, but she loves them.”

“Are you talking about me?” There she is, his Scully. She’s leaning against the door frame, looking utterly exhausted and happier than he’s ever seen her.

“Just explaining some things to our son. I can’t stop looking at him.”

“He really is cute,” Scully agrees, joining Mulder and leaning against him now.

“Hey, why are you up? You should be sitting down. Come on.” Together they make their way back to the bedroom. “How much did you hear?”

“Just you saying I love presents. And Mulder, who doesn’t love presents?”

“Knew it,” he whispers to a fussy William before he kisses his downy head and hands him to Scully, who expertly nurses William. She leans against the headboard, her head tilted toward Mulder.

“Hey you,” he says, grinning. “I meant what I said when you were eavesdropping.”

“Wasn’t eavesdropping,” she says, smiling.

“You just tell yourself that.” He kisses her hair, her temple.

“You already gave me a gift, Mulder.”

“Courage, yeah. You said that.”

“That and Samantha’s doll. You came back to me. Because of you, there’s William. I already have everything I could possibly want.” Tears roll down her face and he realizes he’s crying too. “All I want is more moments like these.”

“You can’t get rid of me. You'll have to share these moments with me. Unless… do you think we can find space for my fish tank here?”

“I think we can arrange that.”

“Then that’s settled.” He leans his head against hers, watching as their son nurses happily, half falling asleep. Like his mother. They will have a million more moments like these - he'll make sure of it. Every single one will feel special. Next year, and every year after this, Mulder will tell William about the night he was born, and the light he followed.

#ficmas2023 #eight nights of mulder were so much fun #i hope they will happen again next year <3 #this is my fever dream story #wish i had written it down right away #all i remembered were the lights lol #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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pan-de-queer · 1 year

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until they echo back to you (the words i never said) [supercorp]

Genre: Fluff, First Kiss, Getting Together

Summary:

Kara takes a deep breath and straightens, channeling as much Supergirl-confidence as she can so that when she asks, “impressed?” Lena hears what she really means.

Or: Kara wears a tie, Lena fixes it for her, they say everything without saying anything.

Author's Note: title inspired by It Is Not Your Job by Caitlyn Siehl. i didn't like where this fic was going originally but now i think it's pretty okay??? not my best but i don't hate it anymore and that's +1 to my self-care points for sure 💕 anyways this fic is a short one-shot under my "100 ways to say i love you" series for supercorp! i have a longer fic for this prompt ("come here. let me fix it.") but i promised myself that i'll be posting more often this year even if that means shorter fics, so, enjoy the short version i have for this prompt!

ao3

until they echo back to you (the words i never said)

“Come here,” Lena smiles at the fifth huff Kara lets out. “Let me fix it.”

Lena steps closer, resplendent in a backless red dress and five inch heels. Black hair woven into an intricately braided bun, blue-green eyes framed around a golden shadow, and signature red lips looking soft and oh so—no. No more thinking, Kara promises herself.

Lena’s cold hands snap her back to reality, gently pull Kara’s fumbling fingers away from her sorry attempt at a neck tie. Slender fingers moving to nimbly twist it into the knot Kara’s been trying to force her tie into for the past thirteen minutes.

And despite Lena’s calming lilt telling her how to knot it right next time, all Kara can think of is how close Lena is. Of how Lena is so, so close. Close enough to count every delicately curled eyelash. Close enough to smell her ridiculously expensive perfume mixed with the coffee she had before they started getting ready. Close enough to brush against soft curves and warm skin. Close enough that if Lena looked up…

A gentle tug breaks Kara out of her thoughts just before Lena smooths down the neatened silk and steps back with a satisfied hum.

“You’re looking sharp, Ms. Maid of Honor.”

Heat shoots up Kara’s cheeks despite the beaming smile that takes up her face. “Well, you’re looking gorgeous.” Blue eyes can’t help taking another quick sweep of Lena’s ensemble. And, well, she did tell herself to stop thinking so much, right? “And, I guess, I was hoping to impress.”

Lena’s head tilts adorably and Kara can’t help but think that if everyone believes she’s a puppy, then Lena’s a cat. Lena’s brows crinkle so familiarly as she asks, “I thought you didn’t bring a date?”

“I didn’t,” Kara clarifies quickly, hoping that the breath Lena lets out is out of relief than anything else. Silence fills the space as a palpable tension starts to snake its way around the pair. Lena’s looking at her, eyes curious and cautious but something else. Something else Kara thinks might be reflected in her own gaze.

Another minute passes before Kara finally asks, “—So?”

“So?” Lena echoes, amusement clearly mixing with all the other emotions flitting through her face.

Kara takes a deep breath and straightens, channeling as much Supergirl-confidence as she can so that when she asks, “impressed?” Lena hears what she really means.

(And Lena does. Of course she does.)

Lena’s smile—crooked and dimpled and blinding—tells her everything she needs to know.

“Incredibly impressed,” Lena breathes, pulling her closer by her tie, lips barely brushing hers.

And then, well, Kara stops thinking at all.

#cw supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #my writing #supercorp fic #maybe i should have a personal tag #queer bread writes #yeah that's it #ANYWAYS with this fic title i now only have EIGHT letters i need to start with to complete the modern filipino alphabet!!!!#FUCK YEAH #(that's my overall goal this year tbh to have enough fics that each title completes the alphabet)#(okay by 'overall goal this yea' i meant for the past 3 years aklsjdsakljds)

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anjanahalo · 11 months

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Working on the outline of my ghost story which, so far, feels like two fics of the two time periods I’m hoping to release in parallel, and I found the key way to write Heartbroken Kid Danny right is the same reason Damian, of all the batfam, connects with him fastest:

Treat the kid like a formally socialized cat that’s gone feral.

#dp x dc #crack fic idea #Damian might be bad at humans but he’s good at other critters #danny phantom #have no idea if the parallel publishing will work but this idea already has some interesting features #like a Vlad who’s still a douche but not the level he reaches in the show #Jazz also gets adopted cause cps is not into you potentially killing your kid #Need to brainstorm on Sam and Tucker #it’s hard to incorporate out of town eight year olds through since they have even LESS autonomy #Teens getting bus tickets sure #little kids getting tickets is a red flag #ghost story au

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sdwolfpup · 5 months

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From my JB solarpunk AU, Our souls lie down in the grass.

Brienne was eight years old when her mother, heavy with the twins growing in her belly, woke her up in the middle of a cold and clear winter night. Brienne yawned and rubbed her eyes. “What is it?” she whispered, nervous and excited. “Is there something wrong?” “Not at all. Come with me, I want to show you something.” Her mother helped Brienne dress warmly and then took her hand and led her, tiptoeing, down the hallway. “Where's dad?” Brienne asked as quietly as she could. “Sleeping. This is just for us.” Her mother smiled down at her, a beatific light in the darkness, and Brienne was filled with love. She'd been worried, with the twins coming in a couple of months, that her mother would be too busy for Brienne. She gripped her mother's hand tighter and followed her into the night.

#jaime x brienne #solarpunk au #my fic #six sentence sunday #i have eight chapters written #but i'm still writing so slowly I don't dare start posting until I've got a complete draft done #I just went back and changed the three chapters before the one I'm currently working on #so. it's happening!#it's just happening verrrrry slowly #I'm really hoping I can use the two days of downtime I have before the new year starts to make some progress #but we'll see

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takiki16 · 3 months

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A Fine Chain

UPDATE: Chapter 18/?

Fandom: Jupiter Ascending

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Beta: @gallifreyburning

Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Dom/sub, Power Imbalance, Royalty, Slavery, Collars, Leashes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Don’t copy to another site, Dark

Summary: Caine Wise, disgraced ex-Skyjacker and convicted criminal, is suddenly inducted into the service of the enigmatic Queen Nea-Seraphi, mysterious new Recurrence and puzzle to the Entitled social circle. While figuring out the boundaries of his new station, worrying about his old commander, and nursing old wounds from his court martial, Caine finds himself slowly being drawn into the confidence of his royal employer. What could Her Majesty possibly want with a defective splice?

"I am the centurion's hound, to lie at the centurion's feet." - Esca Mac Cunoval, The Eagle of the Ninth, by Rosemary Sutcliff

#jupiter ascending #a fine chain #caine wise #jupiter jones #YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOREVER FOR WHAT YOU HAVE TAMED #oh i have been waiting to use this Eagle quote for EIGHT YEARS. EIGHT YEARS I TELL YOU.#i would have OPENED with it except Caine wasn't quite there yet #well IT'S BEEN EIGHT YEARS AND NOW HE IS #HAVE I MENTIONED IT'S BEEN EIGHT YEARS?#my frantic holiday creativity spurt is slowing down but i am FINALLY at the phase of the fic where i can use my Treasured Images #it is GREAT. and if CAPITALISM weren't PREVENTING e i would be working ALL DAY on this #well...maybe not ALL day. there is food. and humans. and also football

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grrlsoft · 2 years

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ love like blood : eddie munson

summary : when your best friend Eddie doesn't show up to drive you home from school, you assume that he's just gone to impromptu Hellfire Club meeting. but little do you know, his reasons for being late are much, much worse.

pairing : Eddie Munson x gn!reader

author's note : eddie angst. thats the tweet. also this is when eddie and reader r just friends but are crushing on each other lolz so no established relationship yet (pls eddie deserves someone who will care for him sobs)

song inspo is love like blood by killing joke !!

warnings : angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries and blood, bullying

you take a long, deep breath, inhaling the smell of damp leaves and overgrown grass. it's fall in Hawkins, one of your favorite seasons, but winter is soon on the rise. large, looming clouds fill the gray sky and block out the sun, giving everything a cold, hazy hue. you shiver as the wind blows through your sweater (although you had made sure to wear multiple layers, the wind persisted), and you check your watch.

it’s 3:47 pm and Eddie is late to meet up with you outside of Hawkins High, something that he does every day. it's sort of become a ritual for the two of you, something you never break unless one of you has pre-established plans.

you don't mind the delay much, as he is usually busy talking with his friends after school hours or perhaps getting a talking to by a teacher, but him being this late is rather unusual, especially since the two of you had made plans to hang out. you rock back and forth on your feet as you clutch your textbooks in your arms. it's a nervous habit.

the inside of your nose starts to burn by how frigid the air is becoming so you nuzzle your chin into the collar of your sweater. the janitor passes you and your worry increases.

maybe he's at a Hellfire Club meeting, you think to yourself, one that he didn't tell you about. that would be unlikely, since Eddie can't help but tell you every single thing that he does, but it's not like you're required to know what he's doing at what time. he's not obligated to constantly update you (even though you sort of like it when he does).

as well as being worried about his absence, him being missing leaves you without a ride home from school. the two of you were planning to go to the record store after school today too, but if he wasn't gonna show…

you walk home after a few more minutes of waiting. you don't want to catch a cold just because Eddie had a different obligation that you didn't know about. maybe he was in detention.

but something about it didn't seem right. it seemed unusual for him.

you shouldn't worry about it, you tell yourself. he can handle himself. he's a big boy.

the walk home is boring and long but you enjoy looking at the red and yellow leaves that blow off the tall trees. you think about halloween and what costume you'd like to wear (as well as wondering if Eddie would want to dress up with you too). the fall air always brings thoughts of costumes and candy to your mind.

once you finally reach your house, you take refuge in comfier clothes and make yourself some popcorn as an after school snack. you turn on the TV and find that there's nothing playing that interests you at the moment, so you instead pad up to your room and put on a record. you sink into bed, already feeling sleep beginning to overtake you. you have completely forgotten about the math assignment you need to do, but that is the farthest thing from your mind.

you snuggle up in your white bedsheets and the sound of your record seems farther and farther away until a loud series of knocks disturbs your almost peaceful rest. you blink your bleary, distantly sleepy eyes open and tumble out of bed, heading downstairs.

the knocking gets louder and sort of frantic and you shout a quick just a second! and open the door.

you rub your eyes as the fading light of day blinds you momentarily. you then look at who's standing on your doorstep.

"Eddie?" you say, unable to mask your horror.

he's half leaning on your doorframe, a bloodied hand resting on the trimmed, white wood. his lip is split and his nose is smeared with blood, his face pale and ashen. his right eye is hidden by a grisly, purple splotch, soon turning a whole myriad of other colors. it reminds you of a watercolor project you helped him do for art class.

his brown eyes look at you sadly, blankly. your mouth is wide open.

you don't say anything. he doesn't say anything either.

"jesus christ, Eddie, I-" you search for words to say to him, but your mind is still trying to make sense of the situation. all you can manage to do is take his arm carefully and usher him inside.

"here, come in," you say as steadily as you possibly can. he follows you slowly, and you're worried that he's limping.

his eyes are trained on the carpeted floor and you close the door behind you. he stands in your front walkway and is still quiet. you open and close your mouth, stammering.

"Eddie," you finally say his name with all the gentleness in the world, "Eddie, what happened?"

you touch his arm delicately and frown disheartedly when he flinches.

he continues to be eerily silent, but his eyes keep moving from the floor to your face apprehensively. he blinks a few times and shakes his head.

"just some stupid basketball assholes, that's all," he finally responds, and it's like a breath of fresh air to hear his voice, no matter how hoarse it is. you furrow your brows.

"they… did this to you?" you ask, and he nods. you clench your fists and feel your stomach churn with anger. all that time you had been waiting for him, he had been getting beaten up. your eyes burn.

"..why?" you manage, and Eddie gives you an almost unnoticeable shrug.

"doesn't matter," he replies. you sigh, knowing how untrue his statement was. but you don't want to pry, as it would probably make him upset.

"uh, here, let me go get you an ice pack or something," you say suddenly as you scamper off to the kitchen, opening the door of your freezer frantically. Eddie watches how desperate you are to help him and it gives him a funny feeling in his stomach.

you find one, icy and blue, and you hand it to him. he takes it in his bruised hand yet doesn't move.

"how about- how about you go up to my room while I look for some medicine or something for you," you muster a smile. you watch nervously as he nods, then makes the trek up the stairs to your room.

you hurriedly inspect your cabinets for some medicine, opening and closing doors haphazardly, not caring if the contents inside fall over. you finally return to your bedroom with a little white bottle of tylenol, a glass of water, and your mother's first aid kit that you have never used. you're no nurse, but you want to make sure that Eddie is alright. it's the only thing that matters to you.

the sight of him slumped on the edge of your bed makes your heart break, and you carefully sit down next to him. he doesn't meet your gaze, his hands gripping the ice pack you had given him so tightly that you think it might break. his knuckles are stained with crimson blood.

"hi," you greet him, pressing your arm against his own. his fingers brush against your leg. "I got you water and some meds."

he takes the glass of water, putting the white pills on his tongue and he downs it in no time. he gives the glass back to you and you set it on your bedside table.

the room is quiet save for the sound of the chilly wind blowing from your open window. your heart is beating out of your chest. you put your hand on top of Eddie's own and you can feel him shaking. he stills for a moment, your touch comforting and warm.

you don't say anything but you look over at the brown haired boy. you brush your thumb against the inside of his hand and he suddenly turns his gaze to you, his eyes unsure and almost fearful.

"sorry that I-" his voice cracks, a sound so incredibly foreign coming from him, "I didn't mean to-"

a few tears slip down his pale cheeks and he hiccups. he turns away from you.

"god, this is so fucking stupid." he manages, brown eyes watery. he sniffles.

your eyes go wide, surprised by his sudden, tearful state.

for the first time in the entirety of your friendship with Eddie Munson, you were seeing him cry. and it startles you.

you snap yourself out of your momentary shock as Eddie covers his face with a bruised hand, his sniffles growing more frequent. you stammer and move closer to him.

"oh Eddie, Eddie it's alright," you console the distraught boy as you rest your hand on his forearm. "it's okay, you don't have to cry."

a gasp leaves your throat involuntarily when Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in the crook of your neck. he pulls you into him, your chest now flush with his own. you can feel the wetness of his tears staining your skin as well as his bloodied hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. he sobs loudly and you reach a loving hand up to rub his back. you rest your head on his own and listen to him cry, his body shaking.

it feels strange to see him like this - so small and vulnerable. Eddie was all talk, all swift turns on the heel and side eyes with mischievous smirks. but this was so much different.

it makes him seem a little more human, you think to yourself. it makes you understand him better.

you run your hands through his hair and trace your fingers along his spine as he sobs into you. you're quiet, not daring to speak in fear somehow saying the wrong thing, and also because you don't think that's what he needs. sometimes people don't want to be talked to; they just want to be held.

and you do this with proficiency. you are careful with him like he's a delicate little thing made of porcelain or glass. eventually his crying softens and his sniffles decrease in number. he sits in your arms silently for a long while and you let him. you would wait like this for hours if that's what he wanted. you think that the two of you should do this more often, hopefully under nicer circumstances.

you blink when he pulls away from you, but he keeps his face close to your own. he drags his knuckles across his face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. the blood of his hands mixes with his tears.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles almost shamefully. you rest your hands on his knees.

"don't apologize," you reassure him kindly, "you don't need to."

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and laces his fingers with your own.

"thank you for being so-" he searches for the right words to say, "so good to me. so nice and everything."

you smile at him and your eyes are filled with adoration. you have a million things you wish to say but now is not the time. you squeeze his hand while also making sure not to squeeze too hard.

"thank you for coming to me," you reply, "for trusting me."

Eddie smiles a sad smile in return and you apprehensively raise your hand to his face, but you pause before your palm meets his cheek.

"can I..?" you murmur and Eddie nods at you with a sort of dreamy, unreadable expression.

"please," he whispers and you almost melt. your soft hand grazes the battered skin of his face as you inspect his bruises.

"god," you whisper, frustration and anger lacing your tone, "can't believe those assholes can get away with doing things like this to people."

Eddie shrugs and doesn't look at you, he's far too nervous to. "that's what happens when you're rich, I guess."

"I know, but," you sigh, not knowing how to fully articulate all the annoyance and sadness you have within your chest, "it's just so unfair."

you suddenly withdraw your hand when you accidentally touch the bruised area around Eddie's eye, causing him to flinch, but he grabs your wrist before you can fully pull away.

"no-" he begins, his eyes looking deep into yours before he swallows thickly with nervousness, "don't. it feels- feels nice."

you blink owlishly at him but you respect his wishes, bestowing your touch to its rightful place. you chuckle as Eddie sighs into your palm, closing his eyes. his skin feels warm where your fingers graze it.

"I still have to clean you up," you murmur as you gaze at his bloodied lips and nose. you wipe away some of the blood from his lip. he chases your touch with what you almost think to be a kiss, but maybe you're seeing things. Eddie's eyes open and he looks softly at you.

"well, you better get to it, then," he smiles, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "unless you wanna sit here and touch my face for forever."

you laugh and he laughs too, the two of you slipping back into the easiness of your friendship. the tension has begun to fade away.

"you were the one who wanted it so bad," you tilt your head and grin. he raises a brow at you.

"you were the one who brought that whole first aid kit up here and still haven't opened it," he says pointedly, "are you gonna let me bleed out, or what?"

you laugh and the noise is angelic. you reach for the white box and Eddie gazes at you all the while. he wants to touch you again, or rather for you to touch him - to rest his head on your shoulder and have you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's far too nervous to do so or even ask.

so he doesn't do anything at all. he just sits and stares at you while you grab your first aid kit, not really listening as you talk about how you've never bandaged anyone up like this besides yourself. the light of your lamp casts a warm glow on the delicate features of your face. he wonders what your lips would feel like against his own bruised ones.

a part of him wishes he'd get injured more often, just so you'd be there to fix him.

#literally have had this idea forever and i finally wrote it #now im gonna go cry for eight years #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #katherine's fics ∘˚˳° ♡#stranger things

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